Psychic Nightmare
by HellsGirlValliette
Summary: Ella is psychic, but she doesn't really understand her powers. In a desperate bid to see if her latest dreams are true she ends up getting caught by some who haunt her dreams. Will they help her with her secret or kill her for discovering theirs?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Any Harry Potter things, just the plot.**

**A/N: I know there are only hints of Harry Potter in here but the next Chapter will have more.**

**Prologue - Not all Dreams can't hurt you**

Ella woke up with a start. Her eyes wide and sweat running down her face, she'd had _another_ dream. This one was really weird, even weirder than usual and that's saying something. She sat up in bed, closing her eyes and tried to remember everything she could about it. She saw a graveyard, a weird mutilated man, a boy, and they were playing something akin to laser-quest, except where the lasers hit blew up. She also saw a whole lot of people, wearing what seemed to be Halloween costumes, in a circle around the boy and mutilated man. She didn't understand what this dream meant, but what did it matter, she would find out soon enough anyway.

She picked up her diary off of the bedside table and wrote down what she saw in story mode. Therefore if anyone – her parents – read it they would believe her if she told them she was just being creative. That's the strange thing about her parents, if you say you copied this down from a dream, she would get grounded. If she told them that she made it up, they would give her extra pocket money. She had long ago stopped trying to convince them that she saw things in her dreams sometimes that happened later in life, as they never ever believed her.

It started when she was six. She had had a dream that her fish was going to die. When she woke up her fish was already swimming the backstroke. She had cried for so long. Goldie (as she had adequately named her goldfish) had been with her as long as she could remember; she had been her good luck charm. Her brother, charming as he was, told her he could make a necklace out of Goldie if she wanted. It had only made her cry all the harder begging her Mum that they could bury Goldie in their backyard instead of flushing her down the toilet.

She had dreams every night, but by the time she reached the breakfast table she couldn't remember enough to tell her Mum or Dad anything about it. Most days she had completely forgotten that she'd even dreamed by that stage. It wasn't until her Grandmother came to stay with them that the dreams became prominent again for her to remember them. She had them every night until she had one grave enough four years after her first dream that she told someone what she saw.

"Mum!" She had screamed as she had bolted down the stairs, "I had a dream that Granny was going to die last night! Mum she got hit by a blue Nissan! And the driver just left her there! She just lay there on the street bleeding until she went so pale. No one helped her. I don't think anyone saw. " By this stage Ella was nearly hysterical. Her Grandmother had always been close to Ella, closer than she had been any of her other grandchildren, all 7 of them. Her Grandmother always gave her the impression that no matter what Ella did, she would be accepted by her Grandmother, something she never felt from her parents.

Her Mother had no idea how to take this news. She looked as distraught as Ella did; she was talking about her Mother's Mother after all. So her Dad took over.

"Ella!" He scolded, "Don't talk such rubbish. Can't you see how much this is upsetting your Mother? Go to you room, you're grounded!" He sent her up to her room and locked the door behind her as he, her brother, her Mother and her Grandmother all went out to Lunch. They didn't come back until much later.

Her Father was the first one in; he ran up the stairs, unlocked the door and slammed it open, pausing in the doorway to find where his daughter was. He found her on the floor writing in her journal, the one that she had kept to writing down her dreams in. Her parents knew, they often read it. He snatched it out if her hands, ripped the notebook from the cover, then ripped the pages to pieces until there were hardly any legible bits of paper left and then grabbed Ella by the hair and dragged her to the window seat of her room, shoving her face right up against the glass.

"ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?" He had screamed, as Ella looked at the scene below. A few lumps under a white sheet lay in the middle of the road, patches on it tainted red. Police officers and Ambulance workers filtered in and around the scene, but Ella didn't notice them for at that precise moment, her dreams broke through to her waking world. She saw what happened before her eyes.

Her Grandmother had walked with her family for five minutes before deciding that she was not up to going out for lunch, turning back towards the house. Her Grandmother had wandered the five-minute walk back to the house thinking the entire way. She looked thoughtful, looked both ways before crossing the road, stopping in the middle to look up at her Granddaughters window. She was so deep in thought that she didn't see or hear the car coming. She was dead before she hit the pavement.

Her Father had kept screaming at her throughout the ten-minute vision. She had managed to block most of it out so it just sounded like noise until his departing words reached her ears.

"IF IT WASN'T FOR YOU SHE WOULDN'T HAVE TURNED BACK!" He took a calming breath and then continued, "If it wasn't for you she would still be alive." He gave her a look that could've frozen over Hell before he walked out the door. Ella slumped off of the window seat and fell to the floor as the lock turned in the keyhole. She sat on the floor, curled up in the foetal position, tears streaming down her face as she rocked gently. The one person in her life, who she knew she could always trust, had just left it. The agony that accompanied that blow however was not passed to her alone, a lesson accompanied it. A lesson she would have to be taught twice.

They had moved out of that house soon after. Her Mother couldn't walk across that road anymore. If was difficult to get her out of the house, and once you had, back in. They moved from a lovely little hamlet in Northern England to a lovely village outside of London, about an hour on the train. They had stayed there for two years before they finally fit in and Ella started to make friends, having finally gotten over the fact that it was her entire fault. She didn't forget, she just learned to live with it.

As Ella learned to live with out her Grandmother, her dreams left her. They just stopped. She still dreamt, just none of her dreams came true, but she still recorded them for future reference, just in case. She made friends at school, something she had always found difficult in the past. People just never seemed to understand her for some reason. Always calling her a freak or worse. Now they called her an Emo bitch, because that's exactly what she has been for the past two and a half years.

She made friends with a girl called Lucy, a girl who was similar to herself. They both had problems making friends, they both disliked their Fathers and both their Fathers disliked them. They had become close over a year and were rarely seen without the other by their side. The only difference between them was that Lucy did Gymnastics after school every Wednesday. Sometimes there were competitions on Saturday mornings; Ella always went to cheer Lucy on, always.

They were watching a particularly important competition one Saturday, so important that Lucy and the other competitors from their school had been given the week off to practice their routines in the gym, to make sure that one of them won the cup. Ella was in the front row as usual excited and nervous for her friend at the same time, as usual. Except this time she had this feeling. A feeling that something bad was about to happen, a feeling she had felt once before – long ago – but she couldn't place it.

A girl from another school by, the name of Amelia Frost, went through her routine and during her cartwheel over the beam slipped and fell off. She didn't score very well. Next was Lucy she went through her routine doing amazingly complex looking – but probably very simple – flips. By the time she got to the beam it looked as though she would win hands down, she did her handless cartwheel on the beam. Except like the Amelia her feet slipped off of the beam. Unlike Amelia, unfortunately, Lucy did not have any support of the beam. Her feet went flying in the air, she twisted to try and land on her hands (as they teach you to do to minimise you injuries) and landed on her nose instead. Everyone in the gym hear the crack, between the quiet of the gym and the volume of the crack it is unsure which was of an astonishing level, maybe even both.

Lucy did not survive. The bone in her nose that broke shot up in to her brain. It was discovered that the beam had been greased. It was never discovered who did it. That day Ella learnt a new lesson of always trust your instincts as well as have her original lesson cemented in her mind of never get close to people, as when they die – and they will die – it's too painful to bear. Two lessons that she kept very close to her heart from that day forth.

Her Parents, although not happy about the decision Ella made, they supported it. Ella told her parents she couldn't go back school, she would go back to _a_ school to that just not Alsford Comprehensive. So the family packed up and moved again. This time they moved in to London itself, to try and block out the memories of both of their past tragedies.

They moved to the best place they could afford, a lovely modern townhouse on Grimwauld Place. The Street actually looked pleasant, they did wonder why it was so inexpensive, but didn't question the price, as they actually really liked the house. The house had a strange effect on Ella. She was never sure if it was the symbolic value of the move to the house, or the actual house itself that affected her more. Her dreams returned with full force; every one of them coming true or happening as she dreamt them. It usually was the most important thing that was happening at the time the dreams occurred that mainlined them.

Recently she had a lot of dreams about wizards, witches, magic, people in Halloween costumes, giant hedge mazes and, most recently, deformed babies that turned in to mutilated men. There were times she woke up screaming, as her perspective in the dream was rarely the same twice. She had died in her dreams countless times. However it had never been her actual body that was killed, just the body she seemed to be possessing at the time.

There was one thing that she found odd though. She had been in that house for nearly two years, her sixteenth birthday in just 4 months time, the 31st of October to be exact, but she had never, ever seen anything out of the ordinary in Grimwauld place until halfway through June. These people in cloaks started walking in and out of one of the houses. Ella never got a look at which one because the house was on the same row as hers. She had a fair idea though somewhere around ten to fifteen.

The school was out, she had had exams and the teachers had let them off for the summer holidays early because some asswipe had tried to burn the school down when they had finished their G.C.S.E.s. So Ella sat in the Window seat of her room, one of the reasons she liked it so much because it reminded her of the fond memories of her Grandmother, without the guilt and grief. It was then that she started to notice these people dressed as if it was Halloween, like the people in her dreams, except they weren't wearing masks.

She watched them for roughly a week, she would have went in to the centre but none of her other mates were off for the holidays yet, before her curiosity burst from its banks. She had to see what was going on. Her dreams were driving her crazy. After another 3 days of watching these people in their get-ups enter a house she acted. Ella, being the logical girl that she is, decided to bring some essential things with her. She grabbed the backpack that she usually used for school, emptied it, and started putting things in to it that she felt she might need if she got stuck inside the house as when she's in anywhere in her house for more than an hour at a time she gets a headache, some colours are just too God-damn bright!

She put in her dream journal, or course, along with her notebook filled with interpretations of dreams and a pen. After the necessities were in she grabbed a pair of jeans, folded them, and placed them carefully under her books, then she managed to find, after rummaging for ages through her drawers, to find her denim mini. She had long ago discovered that if you were running way from someone it helped if you had something you could change about your appearance, or maybe cops were just really _really_ stupid.

She had already gotten a shower this morning but had planned on going back to bed, hence the pyjamas. So she tugged on some pink fishnet tights, to go under her jeans to make her outfit-change-rouse so much more believable, pulled on her jeans over the top, putting a corset on instead of a bra, as it was far more comfortable (and fashionable) than a sports bra, pulling on a Black T-Shirt on over the top with paint splattered on it. Instead of wearing her beloved boots – like she wishes she could – she stuffed her feet in to her black skate shoes, laced up with one black lace and one black and red today, instead of the usual all black. She would finish the look off later with her black trench coat, hoping that they would notice that it wasn't a robe until later, if at all.

She was trying to decide whether or not to put makeup or not, before deciding that she would take it with her and apply it somewhere later before returning home, hoping that if anyone saw her they wouldn't notice her as the person who was snooping earlier. She had learned a while ago that in London you don't snoop unless you have some sort of death wish. She bounced down the stairs, backpack in had, before grabbing both her purse (full of money thanks to her Father's wallet) and her mobile (in case she couldn't make it home tonight) before donning her coat and walking out the door to try and find out if her recent dreams were coming true after all.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I wasn't hapy with this chapter so I decided to change it slightly. Not much just the second last paragraph but it changes Ella's character a fair bit from calculating Slytherin bitch, to strong but can be broken girl.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the works that J.K.Rowling has created.

**Chapter 1**

Ella slipped out her front door and crossed the street to a park, and crouched behind the fence. If anyone on the other side of the street saw though, it would look as though she was just sitting in the park. She had thought about this, she didn't want to go in to the house unless absolutely necessary. She looked through the hedge and saw some of those people in the Halloween costumes, she blinked and they were gone. They just disappeared! In to thin air!

She shook her head to clear her thoughts and then she heard two hushed voices. One a twenty or so year old with bright pink hair, making Ella wonder how the hell she kept it that shade of pink, and an elderly man with hair so long that it was a wonder it didn't have food stuck in it.

"…you've been initiated." The Old man started, "Number 12 Grimwauld place." He spoke clearly. The pink-haired girl looked on in awe while Ella gasped, audibly causing the two people she was eavesdropping on to look round to where she was hiding. Ella snapped her mouth shut praying to whatever-the-hell-is-up-there that they would think she was a cat.

However apparently whatever is up there does like being called whatever-the-hell-is-up-there and ignored her wish, leaving her with 2 choices: Stay and face the consequences; or run like hell. She didn't hang about long enough to discover just what those consequences were.

Twenty minutes later and she was still trying to outrun them. Apparently there had been a lot of their friends in that house and now all of them were after her, they even knew what she looked like and they weren't laying off of her enough to give her enough time to go get changed, they knew what her face looked like so if she just changed her clothes she wouldn't be able to go back home. Who knew you could run so fast in a dress?

She kept running and running as fast and as hard as she could, knowing she couldn't last much longer. Her knees were starting to shake and her breath was ragged. Finally after running for what seemed like hours, and she realised it had been as it was starting to get dark, she seemed to shake them off and slid down the wall of an alley, wheezing trying to catch her breath and failing miserably. After taking in several calming breaths she looked up in to a pair of seemingly bottomless eyes. The owner of those eyes smirked but neither were prepared for the torrents of emotions that poured through the link.

Ella got images of a small boy beaten and crying over the body of a woman; the same boy, older, getting bullied in school; and then being tortured by the same mutilated man from her dream, although he hadn't been quite as mutilated then. The images on their own were draining but Ella couldn't handle the emotions that accompanied each one. She passed out from a physical and emotional overload.

When Ella woke up she was tied to a chair in an extremely crowded kitchen with lots of people staring at her intently. It was slightly unnerving to say the least, although Ella used to people staring at her. People in school always stare at her because she is a 'psychic, freak bitch!' although how they found out she'll never know. A sound slap to her face brought her out of her thoughts and back to the events surrounding her.

The man who found her had a perfume bottle, or something of the size, in front of her and it appeared her was trying to get her to open her mouth. She turned her head away. She has this rule that unless she knows what is in a cup she won't drink it, that's just stupid. The dark haired and eyed man grabbed her chin, forced her mouth open and poured three drops out on her tongue. There was a triumphant gleam in his eyes that unnerved her, almost like it made his day to know that he had beaten a 15-year-old girl, creepy.

The Old man who she had seen earlier stood up and walked towards her, he had intensely cold blue eyes that didn't suit him. Ella thought that he should have happy twinkling eyes, but that thought was crushed when he looked in to her eyes. She saw him talking to a man and a woman, one with bright red hair and one with messy black hair; then she saw him standing outside this creepily immaculate house, one that looked strangely like those of Privet drive (where her Grandmother used to live), talking to a cat, a flying motorbike with a huge man on it landing in the middle of the road; talking to a younger version of the man with black hair, except he had different eyes, and two friends of his, a girl with extremely bushy hair and a boy with hair similar to the woman she had seen earlier. The thing that confused Ella though was that for most of this man's memories she had felt nothing, but when she saw that last one the feelings of guilt, akin to what she had felt when her grandmother died, ambushed her and attempted to drag her down into another depression spiral.

She was snapped back to reality as the Old man seemed to have broken the link, and Ella couldn't have been happier about that, she didn't know why she could see these people's memories when she wasn't touching them and calling to the spirits to bless her with them, maybe they were whatever-she-was too. She was so deep in her thoughts that at first she didn't hear the question. It was only when she got another slap to the face that she listened.

"How did you know where our headquarters were?" The dark man asked.

"I didn't."

"Then how did you find us?" He asked with barely controlled anger in his voice.

"I followed the people in Halloween costumes, because I was curious what they were doing in July with them on."

"Who sent you?"

"No one."

"Why did you run?"

"You looked pissed."

"How did you discover us?"

"I was curious."

"Why?"

"Because I recognised some of the people from my dreams walking inside."

Silence met her answer. The dark-eyed man looked at the solemn blue-eyed man with the long beard before replying.

"What dreams?"

"The dreams I've had on and off since I can remember."

"And what have you seen in these dreams?"

"You. The old guy, the pink hair chick, the black dude, the guy who looks like he's crawled out of a sewer; but mostly the kid who was in both your and the old man's memories."

Once again silence met her answer. Everyone in the room was looking at her strangely. One guy at the back seemed to be looking straight through her, which was slightly disconcerting. The weirdly placed bowler hat did nothing to ease her discomfort, it made him look like one of the paedophiles off of CSI or SVU. Not someone you want to be tied to a chair in front of.

The Black-eyes man looked at her again, as though trying to search her soul but he didn't look happy with what he saw. He actually looked kind of pissed off, just a tad.

"Who. Taught. You. Occulmency?" He breathed at her. She gulped. The guy looked as though he would rip the skin from her bones and no one in the room looked like they were going to stop him… though she doubted any of them could if they tried.

She looked at him with big eyes. She would never admit it outside of her head, but she was terrified. It was like one of those things people warn you about. Some old man will kidnap you and molest you in the middle of the night.

"I… What's Occulmency?" She whimpered. "No one taught me anything about dreams I just learned it from experience. My Grandmother used to encourage me but that's it."

"Used to…?" He questioned, giving her the impression that if she kept talking he wouldn't skin her.

"She died when I was ten. Hit by a red Nissan outside of our house. He didn't even try to stop."

"And you know this because…"

"I dreamt it. But no one would listen. When I told them they grounded me, leaving me in the house while they went out, which was why my Grandmother came back in the first place." She babbled. But she still couldn't stop answering his questions, although she could take note of what he was asking her, unlike the start which was a haze (She blamed the slaps).

A few of the people started to look sympathetic now. Realising that the girl was an equivalent to a muggle-born except rarer. A muggle born seer was as common as a dodo. (Thought to be extinct.) However the dark-eyed man did not look the least bit empathic, just pissed.

"How is it that you can look in to people's mind and decipher their thoughts?" He snarled.

"I can't. Well not until you and then the Old guy over there. Its never happened before. I don't like it. It hurts. And its draining. Please don't make me do it again." She practically begged. "Please."

The last begged 'please' captured all the sympathy from the room. Even what little amount the dark-eyed man possessed had been stolen. Being remembered of the guilt she went through years before at her Grandmother's death peeled away all the defensive shields she had erected since that fateful day nearly six years ago. Tears started to leak from her eyes, dripping off her chin and nose before she noticed them; trying in vain to wipe them away before remembering that her arms were tied. Whatever protective measures she had left crumbled and she fell.

Between her sniffles and sobs she could hear voices. She strained her ears while trying to block out the noise of her own sobs and chokes. She had tried to go for the strong and silent approach, so she could keep a level head and figure out and escape if needed. She hadn't expected these people to be so cruel or angry, she thought the worse case scenario was her getting kicked out, not tied to a chair.

The dark eyed man and the old man seemed to exchange words before red light shined throughout the room and Ella was greeted by the embrace of darkness once more. Once again caused by the dark eyed man, although this time it was painless.


End file.
